Now in fact Mr. Allen was not strong; but Sarah, who had never been ill for an hour, and scarcely knew what it was to be fatigued, had no more comprehension of the languor of a feeble frame, than she had mercy for a weak mind, and, consequently, the breakfast bell rang as pitilessly at break of day, as if Mr. Allen had been endowed with her own “steel and whalebone constitution.” Strong health makes one sometimes unfeeling, and so it was with Sarah. She thought a good walk or long ride a panacea for all the ills flesh is heir to, and that if sickness was not sin, it was what she considered next to it—laziness. “And now, Sarah,” said Mrs. Eldon, “I want a favor of you. I want you to ask young Brandon and his wife to your party next week.” “Which one?” inquired Mrs. Allen. “I did not know Frank was married, for I don’t suppose you mean the other.” “Yes I do,” replied her sister. “Not the one who was implicated in that affair some years since?” pursued Mrs. Allen. “The same,” continued Mrs. Eldon. “He was almost a boy when that happened, and he has quite redeemed himself since. And now that he is married, his friends wish to make an effort to bring him forward again; and I promised to ask you to invite him. It will be of service to him to be seen here.” “Never!” said Sarah, with decision; “I never will countenance any one who could be guilty of such conduct. I am astonished you could ask it.” “My dear Sarah, remember what a lad he was at the time,” urged Mrs. Eldon. “He was old enough to know better,” replied Mrs. Allen. “Undoubtedly,” resumed her sister—“but, Sarah, if you had a family of boys growing up around you, as I have, you would learn to look with more leniency upon their errors.” “If I countenance such young men as Brandon,” replied Sarah, “I don’t know what right I should have to look for better things in my own sons. When society overlooks such acts, we may as well abandon all principle and order at once.” “As a general rule, I agree with you,” returned Mrs. Eldon; “but situated as we are with regard to the Brandon family, I should wish here to make an exception. They were my mother’s earliest friends, and we are under many obligations to them.” “Any thing that I could do for them but this, I would do cheerfully,” replied Sarah. “But there is nothing else you can do, Sarah,” persisted Mrs. Eldon. “They want nothing else; and it seems to me that friendship is but a name, if we are not willing to make a sacrifice for our friends.” “Any but that of principle I am willing to make for them,” replied Mrs. Allen, resolutely. When Sarah took it up as a matter of principle, her sister desisted at once, as she knew the business to be hopeless. She only sighed, and hoped Sarah might never know some of the trials of a mother’s heart, to teach her mercy and compassion.